Jack had a last glance at his men; he was in command of an operation where there was no superior officer to ask for advice, there was no Commander Marshall, not even a Lieutenant Bertram – just himself and whatever physical and mental resources he could amass.
The leather neck stocks were long gone and not regretted. The men carried percussion Brown Bess muskets with bayonets and forty rounds of ammunition, a water bottle and a pound of bread for emergencies. Ranveer also had his tulwar, while Myat had refused any offers of carrying a weapon.
tulwar"I am a Buddhist," she told them. "I don"t kill."
"The enemy is Buddhist, too," Jack reminded her. "At least carry a dha, just in case."
"No," Myat shook her head firmly. "I am a Buddhist."
Jack sighed, patted his golden Buddhas and stepped
